


What This Looks Like

by ProtoNeoRomantic



Series: Patch Works [16]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Cold Case Detective, Engagement, F/M, Gen, Great-grandfather, Meet the Family, Older Characters, Statutory Rape, Unsolved Murders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:49:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Buffy's great-grandfather confronts Giles with his suspicions about both their relationship and his dark past, Buffy comes to his defense and the old man gets a shocking update.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What This Looks Like

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Do You Think You Are?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235281) by [ProtoNeoRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic). 



“I still drive myself,” said Wallace, curtly. “I drove down from L.A. this morning.”

“Bully for you. Off you go then.”

“Oh, I’m not ready to go just yet,” the old man countered, casting yet another meaningful glance at the tea tray and it's two too explicable cups. “I’ve come this far, I thought I might as well say ‘hi’ to Buffy.” He began walking, not quickly but with a steady gait towards the stairs. Giles casually walked over and stood at the foot of the stairs, arms folded. Wallace shrugged. “I could sit out front all day and wait for her to come out,” he pointed out coolly.

“Bloody hell,” Giles grumbled, “I see where she gets her stubbornness.”

“Buffy!” Wallace demanded loudly, now that he knew he was on the right track, “Buffy come down here!”

“Sit, down, for heaven’s sake!” said Giles, completely exasperated. He could see he wasn’t getting rid of the man. “You’ll give yourself a heart attack. I’ll... go and get her.”

“Giles!” said Buffy, poking her head into view above the landing, “what the hell is going on down there? I thought I heard—” Then she saw what she thought she heard. “Grampa Wallace? What are you doing here?”

“Questioning a suspect in a homicide investigation,” he said mock-casually.

“Trying to blackmail me with stale and erroneous information about the deaths of Celeste and Amanda,” Giles explained crisply.

“Oh,” said Buffy, walking down as far as the landing and leaning on the rail. She was wearing her clothes from the day before. “So... you must be wondering why I’m here.”

“I think I worked it out,” said Wallace dryly casting a disapproving eye to her hemline.

“It is nearly ten a.m.,” Giles pointed out. “Buffy’s presence here proves nothing.”

“It proves plenty to me,” Wallace countered, “and it will to your mother too,” he added, addressing Buffy. “Lord, Child, I thought you had more sense than this!”

“Yeah, you really _haven’t_ been in the loop on my personal life the last couple of years, have you?” said Buffy half amusedly.

“Could we all just have a seat,” Giles suggested, “rather than craning our necks all day.”

Wallace sniffed indignantly but sat down on the couch, hands on his knees as if poised to spring into action. Giles diplomatically chose a chair. Buffy walked down stairs and sat next to her ancestor, but she glared at him when he tried to lay a hand on her shoulder. She was wearing the ring, Giles noticed, though Wallace didn’t seem to. Giles didn’t feel that that made it safe to assume he hadn’t.

“I think,” Giles said to Buffy, “it’s getting to be about time to have that conversation with your mother we were discussing earlier.”

“In that case,” Buffy agreed languidly, “Sherlock Holmes here might as well be the first to know.”

“The first to know what?” Wallace asked warily.

“Buffy and I,” Giles explained cheerfully, “are engaged to be married.”

From the look in Wallace’s eyes, he’d finally succeeded in shocking the old gentleman. “Do people still do that?” he asked straining unsuccessfully to sound nonplused.

“We’re old-fashioned folks,” said Buffy dryly.

“You’ll never get away with this!” Wallace shouted at Giles, giving up all pretense of equanimity.

“Wow,” said Buffy, “somebody needs to punch up the dialog here; these clichés are getting a little stale.”

“Buffy,” Giles half scolded, “try to see it from his point of view.”

“Nobody asked for your help,” said Wallace bitterly. “Buffy,” he added demonstrating what real scolding was, “get in the car, you’re going straight home and calling your mother right now!”

“No,” she said, gently but firmly, “I’m not.”

“Then I’m calling the police,” he threatened.

“And tell them what?” Buffy pointed out, “that you caught us drinking tea at 9:30 in the morning? Besides, I’ll be eighteen in a few months.”

 


End file.
